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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183563">i think that he knows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyruling/pseuds/hyruling'>hyruling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>those flashing lights [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, First Time, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, dont perceive me, eddie is weirdly confident in bed and we just have to deal with it, if u squint, oh god i have to tag this, there's no actual bondage but richie likes being held down so theres that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyruling/pseuds/hyruling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie groans, falling back against the cushions dramatically. “You’re going to be the death of me.” </p><p>“Absolutely not,” Eddie responds. “I have big plans for you, Rich. Keep your heart beating for me for a little longer, yeah?” </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>those flashing lights [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i think that he knows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>the slutty sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795858">'it would've been you'</a>, as promised. thank you so much for the incredible response to that dumb fic i love you all. &lt;3 this is mostly just smut from start to finish but there's a lot of feelings in it too. can be read without reading the previous work if you're just here for the porn, but you would be missing out on richie using a captain america meme</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For all of Eddie’s big talk, bold flirting and griping about Richie’s obliviousness to Eddie trying to fuck him for a solid year, it turns out Eddie is a fucking tease. </p><p>Fortunately for Richie (or perhaps unfortunately), he likes to be teased. </p><p>They spend the first night on Richie’s couch lazily making out, trading off between heated and slow kisses, trailing lips and tongues over jaws and necks and collarbones. Eddie peeled Richie’s shirt off and went to town on his chest until Richie was heaving and hard, about to come in his pants like a fucking teenager when Eddie suddenly pulled off and stood up in one smooth motion that Richie didn’t <em> totally </em>follow in his lusty haze. </p><p>“Buh?” he asks eloquently as Eddie straightens his shirt and tries to hide his own boner by cocking his hip to the side. It doesn’t work at all in terms of directing Richie’s attention away from it. </p><p>“It’s late,” Eddie says, gently tilting Richie’s chin up to look at his face. “I should finish unpacking.” </p><p>“I— Eddie, this is, like. The bluest balls I’ve ever had, you just— you—” Richie stutters, shifting restlessly on the couch, angling to get <em> any </em>kind of pressure on his dick. </p><p>“You’ll live,” Eddie says with a smile. Richie can see the way his own pupils are still blown wide, can practically <em> feel </em>the heat radiating from his cock. </p><p>“This is cruel, Edward,” Richie whines, shivering when Eddie’s fingers trail into Richie’s hair and tug slightly. It’s enough to drag another whimper from him, and he’s only a little ashamed about it. “We’ve both waited so long, how dare you.”</p><p>“I’m not trying to be cruel, sweetheart,” Eddie says sweetly. Richie’s eyes slam shut. </p><p>“That sentence alone says otherwise, what the fuck,” Richie hisses. </p><p>Eddie sits next to him and rubs his shoulders soothingly, taking a deep breath before he speaks. “I’m not. I just want it to be… I don’t know. Special. And I realize that makes me sound like some kind of virgin, but it’s. It’s you. And we <em> have </em> waited so long, I want it to be what I always pictured. What you deserve. Not just a quickie handjob after a cross country flight before we pass out on the couch.” </p><p>Richie opens his eyes, taken aback by then sincerity and adoration he finds in Eddie’s. And though his dick is now verging on being so hard it hurts, he can’t help but soften in every sense of the word at the way Eddie’s looking at him. </p><p>“We can do whatever you want, Eds,” Richie murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to Eddie’s cheek. “As slow as you need. But I just want to state, for the record, that literally anything we do would be special to. To me.” </p><p>“I know,” Eddie says, hand brushing Richie’s cheek softly. “It would be for me too. But I want it to be even better.” </p><p>He kisses Richie, slow and deep. Richie’s insides feel like molten gold. </p><p>“Fair enough. But I’m going to go jerk off in the shower the second you leave the room,” Richie says and Eddie laughs. </p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“And I’m going to think about you.” </p><p>“I know that too,” Eddie says with a smirk. </p><p>Richie groans, falling back against the cushions dramatically. “You’re going to be the death of me.” </p><p>“Absolutely not,” Eddie responds. “I have big plans for you, Rich. Keep your heart beating for me for a little longer, yeah?” </p><p>Richie’s answer is less a response and more an undignified stuttering sound. Eddie kisses his forehead and then he’s gone, sauntering down the hallway to the guest room without a backwards glance.<br/><br/>Richie’s off the couch and in the bathroom in record time, has barely stepped in the lukewarm spray of the shower before he’s got a hand around himself, jerking himself off furiously.  He briefly wonders if Eddie’s doing the same in the guest bathroom, and that’s it. He comes in less than a minute, Eddie’s name on his lips, and he doesn’t even try to be quiet about it. He <em> hopes </em> that little shit can hear him in the next room, that he can feel the way the tiles shake with the force of it.</p><p>Later, when he’s dried off and tucked in bed, he texts Eddie. </p><p><b>Richie<br/></b>help<br/>beds too big<br/>im cold<br/>and scared of the dark</p><p><b>Spaghetti </b> <b>🍝<br/></b>Can you just ask me like a normal person</p><p><b>Richie<br/></b>please will u come cuddle with me mr. spaghetti sir</p><p>Eddie starts to type something out but seems to think better of it, instead letting himself into Richie’s bedroom thirty seconds later. </p><p>“Ridiculous,” Eddie says fondly as he climbs into the bed. Richie opens his arms and Eddie is right there, snuggling up under Richie’s chin like they do this every night. </p><p>“Did you finish unpacking?” Richie asks, eyes drifting closed as he breathes Eddie in, soaking in his warmth like a lizard in the sun. </p><p>“Almost,” Eddie whispers.  </p><p>“Shoulda unpacked in here,” Richie mumbles. </p><p>He feels Eddie go still, and his anxious heart skips a beat until he feels Eddie’s gentle lips on his neck. </p><p>“Tomorrow,” Eddie promises sleepily. </p><p>Richie sleeps better than he has in decades. </p><p>
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</p><p>Eddie moves his clothes into Richie’s bedroom. Eddie sleeps in his bed every night, and eats breakfast with him every morning, and tells Richie to alert the Losers to their new ‘relationship status’ like he’s a walking Facebook ad. He kisses Richie good morning and goodnight and makes out with him on the couch and in the hallway and in Richie’s car, and still doesn’t let Richie get past second base, no matter how worked up either of them get. </p><p>And it’s fine, because Richie’s discovered how to take advantage of the situation. In that time, Richie learns how to take him apart without ever touching his dick. He learns precisely where on Eddie’s neck makes him squirm and gasp Richie’s name (just below his ear, at the hinge of his jaw), and that when his thumbs brush Eddie’s nipples over his shirt Eddie moans like a fucking pornstar. Ditto for when Richie grabs his ass, or runs his hands over Eddie’s skin under his shirt, or pushes him against the wall or hoists him up on the kitchen counter. </p><p>“<em> Fuck, </em> you’re good at that,” Eddie gasps one night when Richie tries to double his efforts, sucking a mark into Eddie’s neck and grazing his bare nipples at the same time. “Your fucking <em> hands— </em>“</p><p>It’s been five days since Eddie moved in. They’re on the couch, the way they often are, Eddie straddling his thighs, fingers tangled in his hair. Richie’s discovered Eddie likes this position best; it’s the easiest way to make up for their height difference, and gives Eddie full access to whatever part of Richie he wants to touch. </p><p>“All the better to get you off with, my dear,” Richie says, moving his hands to still Eddie’s hips unconsciously grinding against his before Richie embarrasses himself. He knows Eddie‘s going to put a stop to things in t-minus five, four, three—</p><p>“Okay we sh-should— <em> Rich, </em>” Eddie moans when Richie dips down to mouth at his nipples through his shirt, and fuck if that doesn’t shoot straight to his dick.</p><p>Eddie slaps his hands away from his hips and pins them above his head, pressing them into the back of the couch above him, and that’s another thing he’s discovered Eddie likes — manhandling Richie. Richie is <em> very </em> much on board — he whines involuntarily and flushes red when Eddie notices. </p><p>“You like that?” Eddie asks. </p><p>Richie nods helplessly, groaning when Eddie turns the tables on him and licks a stripe up his neck to his jaw, sucking a mark there while Richie squirms. </p><p>“Eds,” Richie gasps, bucking his hips when he feels Eddie’s teeth scrape his skin. “Eds, I’m gonna— if you want to keep me pure for our wedding night then you— we need to—“</p><p>Eddie pulls off then, looking Richie over. Richie tries not to shrink under his gaze but it’s hard — no one's ever looked at him the way Eddie does. Like he wants to eat Richie whole. </p><p>“I don’t know if…” Eddie starts, trailing off. He releases Richie’s hands and smoothes them over his biceps. It’s surprisingly tender, the way they trail down over Richie’s chest and belly, squeezing at his hips. </p><p>Eddie likes Richie’s body, another surprise that Richie still can’t quite wrap his head around. He knows there’s people out there that enjoy his dad-bod physique, of course, but he’s never slept with someone that would touch him the way Eddie does —reverent, like he’s something precious. Like he can’t get enough. </p><p>“Don’t know if what, baby?” </p><p>Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, another tick on Richie’s mental ‘Eddie Kaspbrak Turn On’ spreadsheet — he’s full of shit when he says he hates Richie’s nicknames, especially in (theoretical) bed. </p><p>“Don’t know if I can keep waiting,” Eddie murmurs, cutting his sentence off against Richie’s lips. “Fucking <em> look </em> at you.”</p><p>“Look at yourself, hot stuff,” Richie answers, pushing at Eddie’s shoulders so he can do exactly that. </p><p>Eddie flushes, and Richie <em> knows </em>how it spreads down his chest, how it contrasts with the jagged white scar on his chest, having had the privilege of seeing it the last time they made out. He wants to chase it with his tongue; he contents himself with using his hand, trailing down Eddie’s chest and brushing his left nipple, damp from his mouth. </p><p>“You’re so hot Eddie, Christ,” Richie swears when Eddie rocks his hips forward. </p><p>Richie keeps looking, keeps letting his hand dip lower, and then his brain short circuits when he actually sees what’s happening in Eddie’s pants. He’s wearing an old pair of Richie’s sweats, which lives in its own sexy jurisdiction in his brain, but what has his full and immediate attention is the dampness he sees spreading on the grey fabric. </p><p>“Fuck, are you— you’re so wet,” Richie says weakly, glancing up to see Eddie biting his lip, and if he even so much as <em> looks </em>at his own dick right now he’s going to come. </p><p>“Don’t make fun of me,” Eddie snaps, and Richie actually laughs, which pisses Eddie off more. He swats at Richie’s chest angrily.</p><p>“I’m so far from making fun of you I’m on fucking Pluto, babe,” Richie says honestly. “I’m mostly just trying not to blow my load right here.”</p><p>“You’re so gross,” Eddie chastises, but it’s softened with a kiss. </p><p>“You’re the one fucking leaking in his shorts, what the hell Eds,” Richie breathes. “I haven’t even touched you.”</p><p>“Yes you have,” Eddie says, shutting him up momentarily when he licks behind his teeth. Richie groans, hauling Eddie closer, and then he can feel the fucking wet spot against his stomach where his own shirt has rucked up. It’s suddenly imperative to Richie’s immediate health and sanity that he get his hand on Eddie’s cock. </p><p>“Please let me touch you,” Richie begs, and Eddie’s eyes widen. “Please baby, I want to make you feel good, I— Eds…”</p><p>“God Richie,” Eddie groans, dropping his head on Riche's shoulder. He rolls his hips like he can’t help it, and Richie trails his hands down to his ass. Richie encourages him to rut against him again, files away the broken gasps in his ear to revisit later. “This isn’t what I planned, fuck, why do you feel so fucking <em> good </em>.”</p><p>Richie turns his face into Eddie’s neck, pressing light kisses to his skin. Eddie’s fingers are clenched tight in his hair, breathing still sharp and uneven. </p><p>“And what exactly <em> did </em> you have planned, honey?” </p><p>Eddie sighs. “I want to… I wanted, if you did, I was working up to… god. Never mind.”</p><p>“Noooo,” Richie whines, smoothing a hand down Eddie’s back. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”</p><p>“I’m not being shy, I’m— I have hang ups about sex, obviously, like. Look at me.”</p><p>He’s still talking into Richie’s shoulder. Richie lets him work through it, knows he’ll get to what he needs to say if Richie is patient. </p><p>“But I've been working through that, right? Like since Derry I knew eventually I— that I wanted this. With you. Unless you didn’t want me—“</p><p>“Absolutely preposterous you even considered that.“</p><p>“—and if you didn’t, I knew I’d eventually do it with <em>someone</em>, probably, and my therapist told me a few weeks ago I’d made significant progress and I— I want you so fucking bad, and I wanted it all to be worth it and make it perfect for you, I wanted—”</p><p>He stops and buries his face even deeper in Richie’s neck. Richie laughs gently. </p><p>“Would it help if I told you what <em>I</em> want?” Richie asks softly. </p><p>He feels Eddie nod, shifts slightly so he doesn’t have to strain to kiss Eddie’s neck. He’s still aware of their erections pressing together, flagging slightly since Eddie’s stilled the movement of his hips, but it’s an afterthought. Like a sore muscle he’s tangentially aware of but has more pressing things to think about, like a lapful of anxious boyfriend. </p><p>“I want to make you feel good,” Richie murmurs, pressing his lips gently to Eddie’s skin. “I want to make you feel better than anyone ever has.” </p><p>Eddie shivers. He punctuates each sentence with a kiss higher and higher up Eddie’s neck until he reaches his jaw. “And I’m selfish. I want you to only want me to be the one to touch you ever again.” </p><p>“I <em> do </em>,” Eddie interrupts, but Richie keeps going. </p><p>“I want to touch every inch of you,” Richie continues, running his tongue over a mark he made earlier. Eddie shivers again, fingers tightening in Richie’s hair. “I want to give you anything you want, anything you’ll take from me, anything that will make you feel good.”</p><p>“Rich,” Eddie croaks weakly. </p><p>“I want to suck your dick,” he rasps, biting Eddie’s earlobe, groaning when Eddie grinds against him. “I want you to fuck me, or to fuck you, literally whatever you want. And if you’re never ready for that, then I want to do this with you forever, and it would be more than enough—“</p><p>Eddie whips his head up and kisses Richie so fast it makes him dizzy. Richie moans, spurring Eddie to kiss him deeper, tugging his hair and tilting his head back against the back of the sofa. Richie lets him lead, lick into his mouth how he wants, happily along for the ride as Eddie takes what he needs.</p><p>“Touch me,” Eddie gasps suddenly; Richie’s fingers dig into Eddie’s hips. </p><p>“Are you s—“</p><p>“Please,” Eddie whines, and that’s all the invitation Richie needs. </p><p>He snakes a hand between them until he can tug at the elastic of Eddie’s sweats. He gives up trying to remove them entirely when Eddie refuses to stop sucking on his tongue long enough to pull them down. He dips below the elastic of his boxers and then he has a hand around Eddie’s cock, hot and leaking. </p><p>“Fuck, Eddie,” Richie groans against his mouth. </p><p>He tugs experimentally; Eddie’s wet enough that it’s slick already, and he finally pulls off Richie’s mouth to bury his face in Richie’s neck again with a broken moan. </p><p>“No come on baby, let me see you,” Richie says, laughing when Eddie shakes his head. “Eds please, I’ve been dreaming about this for thirty years. It’d be a hate crime not to let me see you.” </p><p>“Hate crime, huh,” Eddie says, breath stuttering when Richie thumbs his slit. He can hear the amusement underneath the arousal, and that goes to his head just as much as the other sounds Eddie’s making. </p><p>Richie uses his free hand to coax Eddie’s head back up. Eddie’s eyes are closed but he lets him; Richie catches his chin between his fingers as he strokes him, memorizing the way Eddie’s face contorts, the way his hips jerk when he twists his hand.</p><p>“God look at you,” Richie breathes, and Eddie moans again, eyes opening. He looks fucking wrecked and Richie’s barely done anything. “Fuck Eddie I could come just looking at you—” </p><p>“Then do it,” Eddie mutters. </p><p>Richie falters, remembering with a kick to his gut that he’s hard as a fucking rock. Eddie’s grinding has offered a small amount of friction but now he’s burning with it, heat coiling so tight behind his navel it’s almost painful. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“I’m not the only one getting off here, right?” Eddie says, rolling his hips in a way that drags his ass against Richie’s dick and he groans, hand tightening on Eddie’s cock on instinct. “You say you can come from this? Prove it.”</p><p>Richie has sexual whiplash from Eddie’s shift from bashful back to confident — and when Eddie tilts his head down to suck Richie’s thumb into his mouth he nearly goes blind. </p><p>“Jesus <em> Christ, Eddie, what the fuck— </em>”</p><p>Eddie punctuates that earth shattering move by rolling his hips again, simultaneously grinding Richie’s dick and fucking into Richie’s fist and moans around Richie’s thumb and that’s it, curtains for Tozier. </p><p>“Fuck—<em> Eddie, fuck— </em>” he chokes as he comes, thumb slipping from Eddie’s mouth so he can grip Eddie’s hair and drag him into a filthy kiss as he rides it out. </p><p>Eddie groans and pulls Richie’s bottom lip between his, biting and smoothing it over with his tongue while Richie strokes his dick. Eddie’s mostly taken control by now, fucking into his fist fast and hard, breathing erratically and keening when Richie thinks to twist his wrist. Richie keeps him close, alternating between kissing him and muttering filthy nonsense to get him closer to the edge. </p><p>“You’re fucking perfect, Eds,” Richie gasps when Eddie pulls back for air. “You feel so good in my hand, can’t wait to get my mouth on you, taste you—” </p><p>“<em> Shit, Richie, </em>” Eddie whimpers.</p><p>“I got you Eds, come on. Let go baby, let me see you come, I want to see you so bad—”</p><p>Eddie comes with a shout, collapsing against Richie’s chest and breathing out sharp little “uh-uh”s as he rides it out. Richie strokes him through it, free hand combing through his hair, and only lets go when Eddie whimpers and shifts his hips away. </p><p>They stay that way for a while, Eddie’s head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, arms loose around his neck; Richie strokes his hair while they catch their breath, and then Eddie starts laughing. </p><p>“Something funny, Spaghetti?” Richie asks, giggling a little in response because he can’t help himself. He always wants to be laughing with Eddie.  </p><p>“No, no I just,” Eddie says in Richie’s neck, laughing harder when he sits up and sees Richie’s face. </p><p>“You sure know how to stroke a guys ego, babe,” Richie says but he’s grinning, absolutely fucking smitten with the way Eddie covers his mouth with his hands. </p><p>“I’m not laughing at you,” Eddie says, muffled in his hands between giggles. He takes a steadying breath and drops his hands, reaching instead for Richie’s face and cradling it gently between them. “I’m laughing because— because of fucking <em> course </em> that’s what I’ve been missing out on.” </p><p>Richie melts a little, more so when Eddie leans in and kisses him, slow and sweet. “That’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my fucking <em> life </em>, Richie. You made me feel so good.”</p><p>Richie flushes, knowing full well Eddie can feel “Aw shucks, that was nothing. You should see what this trashmouth can do.” </p><p>“I fully intend to,” Eddie says lowly. </p><p>“God, Eddie, have fucking <em> mercy. </em> I’m forty years old, I can’t get it up again that quick.” </p><p>“Oh no, that was a one off,” Eddie says with a grin, kissing the pout off Richie’s mouth. “I still have big plans for you, sweetheart. Nothing below the belt until then.” </p><p>“<em> Eddie, </em>oh my god you’re so mean,” Richie whines. </p><p>“You’ll survive,” Eddie mutters, sealing it into Richie’s mouth like a promise. </p><p>He realizes belatedly his hand is still in Eddie’s pants. He pulls it out and wipes it on the leg of Eddie’s pants, earning a predictable shriek. </p><p>“They’re my pants anyway!” Richie argues before Eddie can even start. </p><p>“<em> Disgusting </em>. Come on. Shower, now, before you get too sleepy.” </p><p>He stands up with one final kiss to Richie’s cheek, and Richie follows. </p><p>
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</p><p>Turns out, Richie doesn’t have to wait too much longer until Eddie’s moratorium on dick touching expires. </p><p>The next two days are pretty busy with travel preparations. And Richie had never been one to ‘prepare’ to travel until Eddie moved in (one <em> week </em> in Richie’s house and he’s got him texting his estranged neighbors asking them to water his houseplants and getting his mail while he’s gone, what the fuck). Eddie stocks up on snacks for the plane and spends a day and a half alone on packing for the two of them while Richie watches from the sidelines in fond fascination. </p><p>“So does London, like, not have clothing stores or something?” </p><p>“Of fucking course they do,” Eddie says shortly as he refolds one of Richie’s button downs for the third time. Richie snorts and snaps a picture of him to send to Bev from his position against the headboard. “If you’re telling me you just buy new clothes every time you travel somewhere new…” </p><p>“How do you think I got such an extensive wardrobe?” Richie says, just to see the vein in his forehead bulge. He’s named it Vinny.</p><p>“Jesus Christ Richie, I know you’re a celebrity but you’ve got to have <em> some </em> financial limits, you know,” Eddie huffs without even looking up. “Even millionaires can go bankrupt, look at Britney Spears—”<br/><br/>“Hey,” Richie says sharply, pointing at Eddie with his phone. “Britney is being controlled by her dickwad dad, okay, don’t bring her into this.” </p><p>“I <em> know </em> that asshole, but before he took control she was on her way to bankruptcy—”</p><p>“You’re feeding right into what he wants you to think, Eds,” Richie says seriously. “She was never that bad off, he fed all that shit to the paparazzi and gossip mags so they’d all agree with what he was doing.” </p><p>“Oh my god, it doesn’t matter,” Eddie argues. “This is about you, not Britney Spears’ fucked up conservatorship.” </p><p>“Did you sign the petition?”<br/><br/>“Of course I signed the petition, will you shut up? You can’t just buy a week's worth of clothes in London because you're too lazy to pack.” </p><p>“Oh I know, I just wanted to see Vinny again,” Richie teases. </p><p>Eddie tackles him. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Next thing he knows, they’re touching down at Heathrow and lugging their bags sleepily to the hotel. </p><p>They landed at night, by Eddie’s design (he’d called Richie’s manager and insisted on changing flights, because ‘it doesn’t make any sense to land in the middle of the day and have jetlag, <em> obviously’ </em>). Unlike sleep hygiene guru Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie didn’t sleep a wink on the plane. He collapses on the bed fully clothed as soon as they’re in the room, groaning pathetically when Eddie starts tugging his shoes off. </p><p>“You can’t sleep in your jeans, Richie, come on,” Eddie says softly, pulling off his shoes and socks before getting started on his jeans. </p><p>“Heh. You said no below the belt action, sexy.” </p><p>“If you can get it up right now, I’ll blow you.” </p><p>Richie opens his eyes, waggling his eyebrows and lifting his hips to help Eddie pull them down and off, but the moment he’s horizontal again his eyes droop closed. </p><p>“‘S not fair, Eds,” Richie mumbles. </p><p>He’s asleep before Eddie can respond. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The London premiere is like a dream. </p><p>Richie’s in yet another velvet suit, ‘indigo’ per Bev’s description; it just looks blue to him. Thankfully the weather in London is much more forgiving, and he manages not to sweat at all as his team gets him ready. </p><p>Eddie is in a chair next to him, studying what’s happening with the makeup sponge on his face very seriously. He slips Eddie’s hair stylist a fifty to keep the gel to a minimum, a move Eddie definitely notices but says nothing about. Eddie’s suit matches his, and the two of them pose for a pre-carpet selfie for the Losers; Richie looks at it for a full five minutes while Eddie uses the bathroom one last time. </p><p>Eddie holds his hand on the red carpet, and tucks his arm around his waist, just like the first time. Only this time Richie doesn’t just go through the motions in a delirious confused haze; he tugs Eddie along happily, smiling and making jokes and shaking the hands of fans with Eddie at his side. He even does a few interviews and introduces Eddie as his boyfriend, catching the way Eddie smiles at the ground every single time he says it. He also catches the way Eddie’s lips purse when he’s pulled away to take some solo pictures with Brad and do a joint interview. </p><p>“Take it you’re not a fan of Ocean’s Eleven?” Richie teases him later in the lobby of the theater, taking a pull of his champagne. </p><p>“What?” Eddie asks without looking up from where he's sending pictures to the Losers groupchat.</p><p>“Ocean’s Eleven. Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Benjamin Button. Not your favorite movies, I’m guessing.” </p><p>Eddie looks up, eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” </p><p>“Just saying, you don’t exactly seem to be Brad’s biggest admirer.” </p><p>He surveys Eddie over the top of his glass, lips curled in a grin. </p><p>“He’s fine,” Eddie says, lying through his fucking teeth. The red tips of his ears are a dead giveaway. </p><p>“Is it what he did to Jennifer Aniston?” Richie asks sympathetically, delighting in the way Eddie’s eyes practically close with how hard he’s glaring. </p><p>“Rich. Drop it.” </p><p>“No I get it, it was pretty fucked up. Really fucked with a lot of nineties kids’ heads, shattered their illusions of eternal love before their frontal lobes had even fully formed.” </p><p>“You’re so obnoxious, Christ,” Eddie groans, draining his champagne flute. “When does the movie start?” </p><p>“If you don’t want me to play with Brad anymore, I can break it off, you know. All you have to do is ask,” Richie continues, giggling when Eddie pinches his side. </p><p>“Beep fucking <em> beep, </em> ” Eddie hisses. “ <em> You </em> try watching the asshole named sexiest man alive during your formative years cozy up to the guy you’re in love with, and then we’ll talk.” </p><p>His heartbeat starts roaring in his ears; he’s pretty sure Eddie is still talking but he can’t hear it, staring dumbfounded as Eddie casually checks his phone and then looks around for the nearest drink tray. He's pretty sure the room has flipped upside down based on the way his head is spinning. </p><p>“— or will you be okay until after?” </p><p>Richie blinks. “What?” </p><p>“Do you want another drink or will you be okay until after?” Eddie repeats. </p><p>Richie just continues to stare. Eddie frowns, confused, and Richie watches as understanding slowly dawns on his face. </p><p>“Oh,” Eddie says intelligently. </p><p>They stare at each other, Richie’s nearly empty champagne flute poised halfway to his mouth. Slowly, Eddie reaches up and takes it out of his hand. He passes them off to a server walking by, and then takes Richie’s hand and calmly pulls him down an empty hallway off to the side until they find an empty theater. </p><p>“Richie,” Eddie is saying before the heavy double door has even closed behind them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t want to tell you like this, it just kind of-<em>mmf</em>—”</p><p>Richie kisses him, hard enough that Eddie’s back hits the wall behind him. He responds immediately, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck and pulling himself up, running his tongue along Richie’s bottom lip. Richie opens to him immediately, groaning when their tongues meet, when Eddie pulls Richie even closer by the collar of his suit jacket. </p><p>The heat simmers after a few long minutes, and then it’s sweet — Eddie’s hand is on his jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone delicately. Richie pulls back and presses their foreheads together, breaths mingling as they calm down. The only source of light in the room are the dim aisle lights and the gray film static projecting above them, bathing the empty room in a soft glow matched by the softness in Eddie’s eyes. Richie can see their silhouettes on the screen out of the corner of his eye, dips down to press another light kiss to Eddie's cheek.</p><p>“I love you,” Eddie says softly, hushed, like he’ll break the spell if he says it too loudly. </p><p>Richie’s heart thumps in his chest, bursting with the love he's held so close for so long, the love he knew he'd drown in one day if he didn't set it free. His skin feels too tight to contain the magnitude of it all. He can’t speak for several moments, but Eddie waits, endlessly patient for Richie in a way he never is with anyone else. </p><p>“I love you,” he finally manages, choking on the words, and Eddie’s smile is the brightest thing in the room. “Fuck, of course I love you, I love you so fucking much it’s stupid Eds.” </p><p>“Rich,” is all Eddie says before he kisses him again. Richie kisses him until he feels like he can breathe again, until Eddie is sighing the words back into his mouth, breathing them into his lungs so Richie can feel the way they curl into his heart, around his ribs. </p><p>Minutes or possibly hours later, the doors next to them open. Two theater employees stroll in to do final checks before letting in the audience, oblivious to the pair of them wrapped in each other against the far wall. </p><p>“Do we have to stay for the whole thing?” Eddie asks him quietly when they’re out of earshot. </p><p>“Absolutely fucking not,” Richie answers, already pulling his phone out to call their limo driver.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>would you believe i had an entirely different plan for how these assholes were going to fuck. unfortunately they're both horny gremlins so things got out of hand and now there will soon be a second chapter featuring what i was initially intending to write. in the meantime, come say hi on <a href="https://twitter.com/edskaspbraking">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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